


The Watchful Angel

by kels



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:09:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kels/pseuds/kels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel likes to watch Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Watchful Angel

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Castiel liked to watch. Before he left Heaven, it was all he could do, really: watch the humans as they evolve and grow and live and die and love and hate. He watched good men die young as evil men triumphed, he watched true love blossom out of old and bitter hate. He saw many things he wished he hadn't, things he wished he could have stopped, and things he wished he could go back and see again, things he wished he'd been a _part of._

But most of all, he liked to watch Dean.

The man himself was so full of irony and contradictions and _sheer arrogance_ that Castiel sometimes found himself consumed by it to the point where Dean would have to shout his name just to get his attention. He liked to watch as Dean cleaned his guns or sharpened his knifes, liked to watch him watch TV, liked to see the lights and the shadows appear on his face. Castiel liked to watch Dean take care of his brother, Sam. Liked to watch him 'patch up Sammy', how his normally rough hands would quickly and efficiently stitch up long gashes with minimal discomfort, how they affectionately ruffled Sam's long hair or squeezed his shoulder, sometimes staying there for an extra moment or two, considering the extent of the injuries. Castiel liked to watch Dean be a big brother.

Castiel also enjoyed watching Dean sleep.

With the weight of the apocalypse on his shoulders, it was rare that Dean ever slept peacefully. But when he did, his face would relax, the frown on his lips and his forehead would disappear, and his shoulders would drop as if all that weight just vanished and oh, God, didn't Castiel wish it could be that easy.

His favorite, though, was watching Dean in moments of ecstasy.

Like when Dean ate pie. Most humans would find it rather unattractive ("You're _disgusting,_ you know that?" "Aww, lighten up, _Samantha!_ "), but Castiel found it interesting, if not a little confusing. The way Dean's face would lighten and relax at the first bite, how his pupils would dilate at the taste, and the self satisfied smile he'd wear the entire time.

Or like when they made love. He knew the moment Dean became aroused because his shoulders would straighten, his movements would become slow and calculated, and his voice would become deeper and scratchier. Castiel would be reminded of how a predator would look at it's prey.

He loved to watch Dean's muscles move as he took off his clothes, how his arms stretched and bent. Loved to watch as Dean's fingers drew invisible patterns on Castiel's milky skin. Sometimes they were words, like "mine" and "angel", and others times there were just random, stroking over a nipple or circling around his belly-button or brushing against a "ticklish spot", as Dean called it, in the hollow of his hips. He loved to watch as those fingers disappeared inside him, loved to watch as Dean's other hand fondled him through the few moments of uncomfortable stretching.

He especially loved to watch as Dean himself disappeared inside him.

He loved to watch Dean as he eyes closed his eyes when he entered him, muscles twitching with the effort to hold himself back from possibly hurting the angel-not that he could, but Castiel knew Dean would never penetrate him without proper preparations. He loved to watch as Dean's lips moved with unspoken words that Castiel could hear with perfect clarity, his tongue fluttering as he whispered love you _love you **love you.**_

Most of all, Castiel loved to watch Dean love him.


End file.
